


Scratching Post

by eyrist



Category: Persona 5
Genre: ?? - Freeform, Catboy Akira, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, akeshu - Freeform, and SOMEONE caused that boo boo, dont take any of takemi's weird drugs kids, lookin at you akira, purrsona zine, shuake, someone gets a boo boo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyrist/pseuds/eyrist
Summary: Akira Kurusu could live through many things in life. He could get shot, cut, stabbed, burned— and whatever it may be, he always found a way to get back up and fight through whatever battle he has to face next.He was strong, because he needed to be.What happens when he faces one fight he can't (or more,doesn't want to) be part of?
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 94





	Scratching Post

This was it. End of the line. The metaphorical _game over_ , if you will. Akira was ready to meet his end.

“Akira!”

_Not._

He leapt to the side, light on his feet and eyes trained on the brunette standing tall and menacingly before him.

“You’re not getting away!”

His eyes zeroed in on the blades the other held, a hiss slicing through the air from beneath his breath as Goro (traitorous, cynical, _evil_ Goro) made a pass at jumping him again.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, _honey_!”

A victorious smirk curled up his lips as he jumped and landed onto his bed at the last second, eyes painted with the dark colours of mischief and the shine of _triumph_ as Goro slipped on the wooden flooring of Leblanc, effectively landing on his back in the corner. Sitting atop the mattress (his posture _less_ than how he’d usually poise himself) the grin on his cheeks widened in amusement as the brunette glared at him from where he sat up, his left hand gripping the handles of those _evil_ blades much harder than before. Akira was slightly concerned he’d break it, but he was worrying about his survival first here.

“Akira, you can’t keep putting this off.”

“Yes, I can!”

His hands had been placed atop the soft sheets as he sat there (subconsciously kneading the soft material below him as the fabrics got caught in his nails,) with his stare trained at Goro and his veins still pumping with adrenaline— a readying instinct _just in case_ the love of his life wanted to continue this horrible, horrible act of betrayal any further. Goro stood upright once again and took those first, slow steps towards Akira. The brunette’s arms were raised as he gradually approached, ready to capture the infamous leader of the Phantom Thieves in his arms if he damn well _had_ to, just to get this over with already.

“Come here, you smug little bastard..”

Akira _felt_ the moment Goro’s foot had moved off the ground.

“No, you’re not gonna _make me_ , Crow!”

And he’d moved accordingly.

“ _Ah_ , you’re so gullible.”

Before his eyes darted up to the little bell that’d sounded off from Goro’s right, and next thing he knew, he was down on his back pinned to his own bed ( _his own **bed**_ ) with Goro laying on his stomach atop him.

“Goro, get off!”

“ _No_ , I am _not_ letting you go until we get those claws trimmed!”

“I don’t _want_ you to trim my claws!”

He struggled and shimmied from beneath the weight of his beloved— to no real avail because Goro was heavier than he looked.

And also he already had one of Akira’s wrists within the tight grasp of his hand.

Fear and terror occupied where mischief previously swam within his eyes as he watched the claw-trimmer inch closer to his nails, himself thrashing his body beneath Goro’s harder than ever.

“No! Get those away from me!”

“Hold still!”

With his free hand, he tried to pry the brunette’s vice grip off of his wrist.

Keyword being _tried_.

“You’re going to hurt _both_ of us if you—”

And _trying_ apparently meant succumbing to base instincts and swatting his free hand around, too.

Which, he quickly realised, was a bad move.

A very bad move.

A very, _very_ bad move.

“Goro..?”

“It’s fine.”

Akira gulped. The hardness of his tone had indicated, very clearly, that it was _not_ , in fact, _fine_.

As Goro had sat up and off of him, Akira made to follow the boy’s movements: head near his, eyes down to Goro’s arm. Three ( _four_ , if looked at close enough) stripes marred the skin of his forearm, blood seeping through the pink lines and dripping down his arm quickly as Goro inspected the damage. The claw-trimmers were dropped onto the bed, and Akira felt guilt budding within him with each, quiet second that passed, growing bigger and bigger the more Goro didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s _fine_ , Akira.”

It was very much not fine.

There hadn’t been much distance put between them as they both sat atop the mattress, Akira’s head clouding with regret. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he remembered keeping a first-aid kit in one of the shelves, and so slinked off to retrieve it before he once more plopped back onto his spot with the box on his lap. With a small, hesitant push, he brought it closer to Goro, both of them knowing full well that Akira wouldn’t be able to tend to the injury himself because of his.. _predicament_.

See, in order for the Thieves to be able to scour through Mementos and Palaces for long stretches of time, they needed their supplies— In particular, they needed healing items from Tae Takemi, local, residential, back-alley (and also somewhat suspicious) doctor. To _get_ those items, Akira had made a deal with her: Her products, for his body.  
It was really only clinical trials and drug experiments that she’d done to him, aside from some check-ups whenever he got _too_ beaten up during their heists. Side effects usually never lasted for more than a day, but _somehow_ (Gods above only knew how) the last drug he’d tested for her had still had its side effects _strongly_ embedded onto him.

From what Akira remembered, it was a drug that aided to enhance the patient’s adaptive abilities, to make their body better suited for their environment. Akira had taken it a few hours before a Mementos raid, and it was there that they fought a catlike Shadow.

Which cursed Akira.

And whose curse somehow meshed with Takemi’s weird drugs.

That ended up following him to the real world.

It _really_ couldn’t get any richer than _that_.

And, well, it’d been a solid few days already and it hadn’t worn off. Akira had somewhat gotten used to the fluffy ears sticking up from his head and the furry tail that swished behind him (even though he had to stuff it into his pants most of the time), plus the hearing and seeing everything part about it was more like having Third Eye constantly in use— So it didn’t really take much for him to adjust to it (and maybe that was also thanks to Takemi) but at the same time..

His claws had been a problem.

And by “ _problem_ ,” he meant “ _really big problem_.”

Mostly because he was handsy when it came to his affections for Goro and it was more than _once_ that he’d scratched the other boy up pretty badly already when he got too caught up in it. That was the entire reason why Goro even decided he needed a nail trim anyway, and now..

Well, there they were.

Akira would watch as Goro patched himself up, eyes and ears drooped low with the guilt eating at him and with his tail laid flat on the bed around his crossed legs. When Goro swiped the slices over with alcohol, Akira hissed quietly, though Goro didn’t seem to feel much pain as he finished up with a bandage taped around it. After the first-aid kit was set onto the ground next to his bed, Goro avoided looking at Akira, his eyes looking at some far-away spot beyond the windows— and it made Akira feel all the more remorseful.

“I’m sorry..” he mumbled, head buried within the crook of Goro’s neck as he rubbed, “I’m really sorry..”

That was another thing about turning into a catboy: He’d begun acting like a cat, amplifying his normally-quiet reactions and gestures.

It’d taken a few seconds, but he felt a hand run through his hair, long fingers entangling within his locks before they found _the_ spot behind his cat ears. In the back of his head, Akira figured he’d began purring lowly, _quietly_ in an apology, but as Goro continued, the rumbling within his chest and his throat grew louder, the head rubs he insisted upon Goro’s neck getting faster and more _possessive_.

“It’s fine, I’m alright..” came Goro’s soothing voice, like smooth honey running clean as it cooed at him. “It’s _okay_. **_I’m_** okay.”

Akira snapped back from their proximity, eyes linking with Goro’s as he looked at the boy.

“But I hurt you!”

“You’re a _cat_ right now, I don’t blame you— and you’ve done worse to my back, anyway.”

That wasn’t enough.

As night fell upon them and the attic darkened with the sun’s descent, Akira found himself glancing around the bed, his lips pursed into a thin line and his brows slanted down as they furrowed together. He still felt _guilty_ that his claws had sliced his beloved’s arm clean, and though he _really_ didn’t want to do this, it felt like how he could _really_ apologise.

There was a hiss just under his breath as he found the claw-trimmer, plucking it off with the stink-eye where it got wedged between the wall and the mattress before he nudged Goro’s legs open. As Goro looked to him with confusion and curiosity painting his features, Akira made to climb onto the boy’s lap and place the trimmers onto his left hand, himself settling in just fine the way he sat Morgana onto his lap whenever _he_ had to trim the not-cat’s claws.

Gingerly, he placed his right hand onto Goro’s palms and squeezed his eyes shut.

He _really_ didn’t want this to happen. His claws were his only _defence_!

“Make it quick.”

Akira felt himself flinch as Goro’s hand wrapped around his palm, keeping his fingers out as he felt it move closer to the centre before their bellies. He knew it was coming. It was making his ears twitch and his tail thumping up and down Goro’s thigh. The brunette in question even had to press his thumb down upon Akira’s fingers when they began to curl into his palms in _fear._

That damned claw-trimmer was going to be the end of him.

_Clip_

There was a kiss to his cheek, a peck so quick that when Akira’s eyes shot open, he only saw Goro pulling back.

“You deserve a reward, hm?”

Goddammit, this boy was a charmer. He knew how to press Akira’s buttons.

“Damn right I do.”

With each clip that Goro made to Akira’s quickly-shortening claws, there was a kiss planted somewhere on his face: It had started with both cheeks, and then Akira’s chin, up to his nose, between his brows, both cheekbones— and then, three, sweet kisses on his lips. When the trimmers were tucked away, Goro took both of Akira’s hands and placed kisses upon the backs, too— to which, he instinctively swatted at because he just got his claws trimmed and he was _not_ in a good mood.

Too bad his tail was a traitor and wrapped around Goro’s leg when the boy chuckled at him.

“Now, was that so bad?”

“ _Yes_.”

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaand here it is !! my piece for the [purrsona zine](https://twitter.com/purrsona5zine) !!! 
> 
> it was an honour to have worked on this zine with everyone involved. i'm proud of all of us. 
> 
> thanks !!!


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